A Number One with a Side on an Awkward Crush
by everythingisdragons
Summary: Alfred just got the job at McDonalds's so he could flirt with the cute cashier. This may not have been his best idea. USUK.


"What can I get for you today?" The green-eyed, wild-haired cashier asked Alfred.

"Uhhh," said Alfred. He had his order prepared, really, but the cute cashier had thrown him off-guard.

"Do you still need a minute to decide?" The cashier said, a touch of impatience in his voice.

"Uhhh," Alfred repeated.

His brother Matthew pushed him aside. "I'm ready. I'll take a number two, large, with a large drink."

The cute cashier told Matthew his total and handed him his drink. Matthew stepped aside and Alfred stepped forward. He could see that the cute cashier's nametag said Arthur. Yeah, he looked like an Arthur, whatever that looked like.

"How can I help you?" Arthur the cute cashier repeated.

"Uh, a number one. With fries. Uh, wait, the meal comes with fries, right? Ha, ha. Uh, so make it a large. Please. With a coke." He suddenly stopped talking, realizing that he was making a fool of himself. Arthur barely avoided an eye roll. He took Alfred's cash, handed him his change and cup and disappeared to grab Matthew's order.

Alfred moved aside to join his brother. "Did you see the cashier? Total cutie, right?"

Matthew looked up from his drink concoction. "If you say so."

"He is," Alfred insisted. "Do you think he'd give me his number?"

Matthew sighed. "He's probably just trying to do his job. Don't annoy him."

"But he's cute!" Alfred pouted.

Arthur called out Matthew's order number, and Matthew abandoned Alfred with the drink machine. Alfred continued pouting by himself until his own number was called. He took his meal, then sat with Matthew.

Alfred was silent for most of the meal. Matthew ignored his quiet-for-once brother in favor of his phone.

Alfred stabbed his ketchup with a fry. "I wonder how long he's worked here. I think I've seen him before."

"Who?" Matthew asked.

"The cashier. You know, the cutie." Arthur, he thought to himself, but he didn't dare say his name out loud.

Matthew shrugged. "Maybe he was here when I came through last week with Lars?"

Alfred decided not to ask about his brother's stoner friend's habits. "Okay. I wonder when he works."

Matthew swiped some of Alfred's fries. "Don't go bothering the nice man."

"But-"

"Just eat your fries." Alfred, though unhappy about it, continued eating his meal. As he ate the beginnings of a very stupid plan began to take shape.

* * *

"How can I help you?" Arthur the cute cashier asked Alfred the next day.

"Uh, I was just wondering if you were hiring," Alfred said, nervous to talk to his new crush.

Arthur smirked. "Of course. We have paper applications over there, and we always have an online application." He pointed to a nearby counter with very obvious stacks of paper applications.

"Ha ha, sure, thanks." Alfred grabbed an application and walked over to an empty table. He began filling it out, only to be distracted when Arthur began cleaning the lobby. Yeah, Arthur was pretty cute. Alfred wondered if his stupid, half-thought out plan would actually work.

* * *

"Then you squeegee the grill off," Elizaveta explained to him. She was a nosy, kind girl with a flower tucked into her bun and three pins on her hat. She was also responsible for training Alfred at his new job.

"I think I got it the first time," Alfred said. His own hat kept falling down too low on his face, distracting him from his work and blocking his view of Arthur. Not that he had much chance to observe Arthur anyway, what with learning how to cook hamburgers.

"You sure? You seem a little distracted."

"What?" Alfred tried to play dumb. It usually worked.

"Hmmm. Is it someone here?" Elizaveta asked.

"Uhhh," said Alfred.

"I knew it!" Elizaveta said excitedly. "Here, I'll show you how to put in chicken nuggets. Who is it?"

"Uhh," said Alfred.

"Let's see, I'd guess Emma. She's cute and nice. No, you use the big basket for nuggets." Elizaveta demonstrated how to properly put nuggets in a basket. "Make sure they are spread out evenly. And don't let them get stuck together, or else they won't cook all the way. Oh, I know, how about Arthur?"

Alfred made a sputtering noise.

"Ah, I was right. I'm never wrong about those kinds of things. Now, you put them in slowly, or oil will go everywhere. Push the button that says 'chicken nuggets' then the one that says 'start.' Don't tell me you start working here because you think he's cute?"

"Uhhh, yes," Alfred said finally.

"I knew it. Have you talked to him a lot?"

"He took my order a couple times."

Elizaveta sighed. "You started working here because you have a crush on Arthur and you've barely talked to him? What it wrong with you? Throw those gloves away, they're gross."

"Uh, yes," Alfred said as he threw his gloves away.

"Well, that was stupid. Come on, we need to make more reg meat."

* * *

"How's work? You McLovin' it?" Matthew asked as Alfred walked into their apartment.

"I smell like a hamburger," Alfred answered. "I love hamburgers."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "How's the cute cashier?"

"Arthur? I don't know, I didn't talk to him." Alfred said as he took off his uniform.

"Ugh, Al, keep your pants on," Matthew yelled, tossing a pillow from the couch at his brother.

"I'm hot," Alfred whined. "And smelly."

Matthew threw the other pillow at him. "At least wait until you get that cute cashier. Gross."

* * *

"And this is where we keep the nuggets. And there are the fries. And the burgers. Muffins. Cookies. Pies." Elizaveta pointed as she spoke. "No, you can't put that many cookies on a pan."

"Why not?" Alfred asked.

"They won't cook properly," Elizaveta told him. "Now, tell me about Arthur."

"What, now?" Alfred whined. It was really cold in the freezer.

"Of course. No one will interrupt us for a few minutes. Have you talked to him yet?"

Alfred shook his head. "No. We're both working."

Elizaveta rolled her eyes. "I'll take care of that. Don't worry about a thing."

* * *

Later that day, Alfred walked into the breakroom holding a Coke and a double quarter pounder. Arthur was already sitting in the breakroom eating his cheeseburger and fries. Alfred sat across from him, excited to finally be so close to his crush.

Arthur looked up after a moment. "Hello."

"Hey," Alfred squeaked. "How's it going?"

Arthur shrugged. "Shit job. Shit people. You know."

"I dunno. I kind of like it. I've never had a job like it before."

"It's a job. Nothing more, nothing less," Arthur grumbled.

"Yeah." Nothing else to say, Alfred returned to picking at his burger and spent the rest of his break in silence.

* * *

"When can I learn to make sandwiches?" Alfred asked.

Elizaveta shrugged. "When someone who outranks me says you can."

"I thought you were the boss," he joked.

She laughed. "I would be, if they knew what was good for them. No, if I were in charge, I think I'd make you learn service, then you could hang out with Arthur."

"Shh, don't say it so loud," Alfred said loudly.

Elizaveta ignored him and continued making sandwiches. "Yes. Then Arthur could finally notice you, and you could get rid of your awkward sexual tension."

"Aww, don't put it like that."

"Nuggets. How else do you want me to put it?"

* * *

"How's Arthur?" Matthew asked as Alfred threw himself down on the sofa. "Get up. I don't want the couch to smell like hamburgers."

"This is the worst idea I ever had," Alfred complained.

"I think I told you that," Matthew said. Alfred never listened to him, which really came back to bite him sometimes.

* * *

"Hey," Alfred managed to squeak when Arthur came into the break room.

"Hello," Arthur responded.

Alfred decided to ignore his nerves and push forward on getting to know Arthur. "So, uh, what do you do besides work here?"

Arthur shrugged. "I read a lot. Write a little. I'm trying to save up to go to college next year."

"Oh. What do you want to go for?"

"Journalism, I think. Or English."

"So, you gonna write for a newspaper or something?" Alfred asked.

Arthur actually smiled. "I'd like to work at a publishing house. I think I'd like to be an editor. What about you?"

"I'm going to school right now. I'm an advertising major."

Arthur nodded. "I see. What year are you?"

Alfred grinned. He was actually talking to Arthur and talking naturally. It was awesome. The two of them spent the remaining twenty minutes of Alfred's break talking about school. They spent the next day the same way. The day after that, Arthur had to teach Alfred how to count waste, so they talked while they did that.

"This is gross," Alfred said as he put on a pair of gloves.

"This isn't so bad. First shift actually remembered to count their waste today," Arthur told him. "You just need to pull stuff out and tell me what's in there. Simple, really."

"Ick. Is this raw meat?"

Arthur looked at whatever Alfred was holding. "Stop being a baby. How many patties are there?"

"Uh, eight. No, wait. Never mind, it is eight. They were just fused together."

Arthur rolled his eyes and wrote it down. "See here where it says reg? That's where you write down how many patties we had to throw out."

"Uh-huh. Is there usually this much food to throw out?" Alfred asked.

Arthur shrugged. "Well, sometimes I've done two days' worth of waste because people just couldn't be bothered to do it for that long. So, sometimes."

Alfred suddenly felt bad for Arthur. "Ick. How long have you worked here?"

Arthur sighed. "Three years. I've outlasted two general managers."

"Wow."

"Yes."

"Then why aren't you a manager?"

Arthur smirked. "Because I don't want to be."

Alfred smiled. "I bet you'd be a good manager."

"No, I wouldn't." But Arthur actually smiled for a second. Alfred's heart flipped. He liked Arthur's smile, and he wanted to see it again.

* * *

"I got his number!" Alfred cheered as he entered the apartment. It had been three weeks since his conversation in the lunch room with Arthur, and he was finally starting to see some benefits.

Matthew looked up from his book. "Who's number?"

"Arthur's number."

"Oh, you're still obsessed with him?" Matthew said, barely paying attention to his brother.

"Whatever," Alfred said as he pulled off his clothes and heading toward the shower. He was starting to hate the smell of hamburgers. Good thing his developing relationship with Arthur was worth it.

* * *

"Hey, do you work on Thursday?" Elizaveta asked.

"No, I have class all day," Alfred answered.

"All right. My boyfriend is just coming into town this weekend. I'll ask Emma. The tag says no onions." She was teaching Alfred how to make sandwiches today, so they had more opportunities to talk.

"Oh, right," Alfred said, checking the tag for himself as he finished wrapping the sandwich.

"So, how's Arthur doing?" Elizaveta asked, passing Alfred the next sandwich. "It's a double quarter."

"Okay. I guess he's fine. We just talk sometimes."

"Hmm. That's all?"

"Uh, yes. I got his number. And he followed me back on Instagram."

"Hmm. What about Tumblr?"

"I don't have a Tumblr?"

"Oh, well, we'll have to change that someday. More importantly, we need to get you talking to Arthur more. Has he liked any of your pictures on Instagram?"

"It's mostly food," Alfred explained. "Arthur likes to post pictures of books and sunsets."

"Hmm," Elizaveta said again. "No, that only gets one piece of cheese. And remember, one pickle per patty. Do you like Arthur's pictures on Instagram?"

"I'm not sure what that has to do with anything?"

"You're right. Now is not the time to be subtle. Go all out. Ask him on a date."

"What?"

"Ask him on a date. Be direct. Life is short." Elizaveta grinned at him as she started another sandwich.

"Um, okay. Okay." He grinned, almost reflexively. She was right, it was time to take action.

* * *

"Are you working on Sunday?" Alfred asked Arthur as they both walked out. They had closed together that night, so Alfred took the opportunity to talk to him.

"I open. What about you?"

"Yeah, me too. Do you have any plans Sunday night?" Alfred asked. Here went nothing.

"Probably Netflix," Arthur said.

"Oh. Cool." Alfred swallowed. "So, then, I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to do something with me on Sunday."

Arthur glared at him. "Are you asking me on a date?"

"Uh, yes," he said hesitantly. Then, more confidently, "Yes."

Arthur was still glaring at him. "So these overtures at friendship were an attempt to ask me on a date?"

"Yes?" Alfred said carefully.

Arthur snorted. "At least you're honest. What did you plan for us to do?"

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "Honestly, I didn't think past this part."

Arthur sighed. "Pick me up at 7. I hope you'll have a plan in place by then."

* * *

Sunday evening came, and Alfred was a nervous wreck but trying not to show it. Matthew and Elizaveta had given him all sorts of advice, ranging from ridiculous to moronic. He decided to ignore most of it.

He knocked on Arthur's door promptly at 7. He valued being on time, and he hoped Arthur did, too. Arthur opened the door after an appropriate amount of time. He was wearing a black t-shirt and torn jeans and his hair was even more of a mess when it wasn't contained by his hat. He looked cute.

"Hi," Alfred squeaked.

"Hello," Arthur said. He walked out, closing the door behind him. He followed Alfred out to his car. "So what did you have planned for tonight?"

"Uh, mini golf and milkshakes sound good?"

Arthur actually smiled. "Yes. That sounds wonderful."

Alfred grinned. So he had done something right.

Arthur was very bad at mini golf. So was Alfred, actually.

"You're terrible at this," Arthur said as he tallied Alfred's score.

"Am I winning?" Alfred asked, trying to look at the score.

"No," Arthur snapped, holding the scorecard out of Alfred's sight.

Alfred tried to reach around him. "Nah, you're just saying that. Let me see the score!"

Arthur kept holding the scorecard away. "I would never! I'm winning, and you're losing!"

"I bet you wrote the scores down wrong! Not cool!"

Arthur elbowed Alfred's ribs. "Here, I'll show you. Look, I'm winning. See, you scored ten on that last hole. I scored eight."

Alfred squinted at the scorecard. "Are you sure I got twelve at the second hole?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"You're terrible at this," Arthur repeated.

"But you're having fun, right?" Alfred asked. As long as Arthur was having fun, he could tolerate losing. Sometimes there were more important things than his pride.

"Oh, yes, I suppose so," Arthur said noncommittedly, but Alfred could tell he was pleased.

Alfred dropped an arm around Arthur's shoulders. "So, do you think I can save this game?"

"I'd like to see you try," Arthur challenged him.

"Oh, you're on."

* * *

Alfred lost the game of mini golf, of which Arthur was glad to remind him for the rest of the night. After wandering around for a little bit, the two ended up at a small diner ordering milkshakes and fries. They sat across from each other as they ate.

"Out of curiosity," Arthur began. "Why McDonald's?"

"Uh, I like hamburgers?" Alfred said, hoping Arthur wouldn't push him.

"That's odd. Usually, people work there because they need a job, not because they want food."

"Well, the food is a bonus," Alfred added.

"Hmm," Arthur said, but he didn't push it. The conversation turned toward school, and Arthur complained that he was still in need of funds for the upcoming school year.

"So you're going back this year?" Alfred asked.

Arthur nodded. "Yes. I'm set to start at State in the fall," he said with a smile.

Alfred smiled back; he liked it when Arthur smiled. "That's cool. I'll be there too, and my brother and I live on campus. Maybe we'll run into each other."

Arthur smiled again. "Good. And will you still be working at McDonald's next year?"

Alfred grinned. "Only if you are."

* * *

Alfred dropped Arthur off at his house later that night. "So, did you have a good time?"

Arthur sighed. "I suppose."

"Does that mean I get a second date?"

Arthur grinned. "Only if I can choose what we do."

"So I'll see you around, then?" Alfred asked.

Arthur nodded. "I suppose so."

"I'd like that," Alfred said.

"I think I'd like that, too."

* * *

Elizaveta practically tackled Alfred as he walked into work the next day.

"Well, how did it go?" She asked.

Alfred grinned. "It was awesome! We went mini golfing and I bought him a milkshake and he agreed to a second date! I can't believe my plan actually worked!" He walked into the breakroom to see Arthur already there, on his phone. "Uhh…"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Now's an odd time to be embarrassed about your gossiping habits, Alfred. Perhaps in the future, you should be more discrete."

Alfred blinked, confused and a little scared. "Wait, how much of my plan did you know about?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Let's see, your crush, why you started working here, your plan to ask me out? Of course. I was just waiting for you to act."

"Uh…" Alfred wasn't sure what to say. "Wait, what?"

"Yes," Arthur smirked. "I was starting to get impatient."

"Wait, what?" Alfred really wasn't sure what to say to that.

Elizaveta giggled. "I knew it. I'm rarely wrong, you know. Congratulations, you two!" She disappeared from the room.

"So, uhh…" Alfred started. He really wasn't sure what to say.

Arthur held up a hand to stop him. "Never mind. Do you have any time off this weekend? A Shakespeare company is doing _The Tempest_ and I'd like to go see it."

Alfred grinned. Maybe getting this job wasn't the worst idea he'd ever had.

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Written for the USUKUS Twice per Year's "Uncommon Professions" event. My two years under our lord and savior Ronald McDonald finally paid off as background information for this fic. My apologies if I gave any former McDonald's employees war flashbacks.**


End file.
